


Duty calls

by onceuponachildhood



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Gen, Purple Hawke, Red Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 07:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10566171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponachildhood/pseuds/onceuponachildhood
Summary: Marian the mage is as supportive as a sarcastic disaster can be. Her warrior of a twin? Not so much. || hawke twins au





	

“Carver, what are you wearing?” Marian heard her twin before she saw Carver. She’d only heard that particular note of anger in Garrett’s tone once, when he’d finally told her what happened at Ostagar. For whatever was happening to rate as much anger as talking about Loghain, it had to be bad. Marian shoved her twin to the side with her shoulder despite his resistance.

Carver was wearing a templar uniform.

For a single, panicked breath Marian thought she was in the Fade, that her nightmares had come to torment her again. But then Carver turned his gaze on her, and demons could never get the eyes right. It was him, all right, big blue eyes and permanent scowl and all. She almost let out a sigh of relief; instead she settled for a shaky “You know, when I told you girls like a man in uniform I didn’t think you’d actually take my advice.”

Carver didn’t even blush.  _ Shit _ . Garrett settled a hand on her shoulder, a little too firmly for her liking, and she fought the urge to smack it off. “Now’s not the time for joking, sister.” His amber eyes, so unsettlingly like Father’s and Bethany’s, hadn’t moved from their younger sibling. “Why are you wearing… that?” He practically spat the last of his question out.

“I’ve decided to join the templars. You won’t talk me out of it.”

“He shouldn’t try,” Marian added, voice soft. Carver seemed to catch himself mid-flinch. Marian could understand his confusion, she guessed. Even if they had talked about templars before.

Garrett growled - Maker, he actually  _ growled _ \- “I’m gonna beat him out of it if he doesn’t stop fucking around.”

“Garrett!” Marian thanked the Maker that Mother wasn’t home.

Carver snorted. “That’s right, asshole. You see something you don’t agree with, you just beat the shit out of it.” Garrett’s hand on her shoulder clenched. Marian gritted her teeth and wondered just how mad Mother would be if she stabbed her twin in the hand. Just a little stab. More like a poke, really. A nice quick blade between the tendons. “You’re not going to change my mind, Garrett. I am going to do something meaningful with my life.”

“Meaningful!?” At that, Garrett launched himself forward, tackling Carver to the ground. They hit the ground in a clatter of plate and chainmail. Marian felt frozen, paralyzed. Garrett was shouting. “You’re going to be hunting apostates, you self-righteous-” He punched Carver hard enough that his knuckles made a cracking noise. “-traitorous, pig-headed-” Another crack, and whatever had frozen Marian in place broke.

“ **Enough** .” Marian grabbed Garrett by the neck of his tunic, twisted it in her hand, and pulled, so that he would either have to scramble back or be strangled by his own clothing. He came to his feet, tugging at his neckline. Marian released it and he turned only to have her hand come up against his face. The slap hit so hard that he stumbled. Immediately, a red welt sprung up on his cheek. 

She didn’t even dignify her twin with any further attention, instead kneeling by Carver’s side and offering him a handkerchief to press to his bloodied nose. She summoned her mana, casually, comfortably, and healed his face. “You must have caught an important someone’s eye, to be accepted into the Order,” she said. “I’m proud of you, Carver.”

Of course her little brother looked suspicious. “You’re serious?”

Marian wouldn’t let that deter her from her point. “Of course.”

“This is what you choose to be serious about?” Garrett huffed. “This is ridiculous. Stop healing him and step aside so I can finish what I started.”

Marian got up and stepped toward her brother, shoulders squared, meeting his angry gaze with her own cool one. “If you don’t shut your mouth and calm down this minute,  _ I _ am going to finish what you started. And brother,” she dropped her tone, let her hand glide along the edge of her stave, “it won’t be pretty.”

The clank of armor behind her signified that Carver had stood. Garrett looked at the two of them and hissed a breath between his teeth. “I’ll be at the Hanged Man if either of you comes to your fucking senses.”

The door slammed behind him and then it was oddly quiet, at least, after all the shouting.

“I’m sure you imagined that going more smoothly.”

Carver laughed. It was small and weak and honestly so pathetic it made Marian was to cry, but it was a laugh. Point for her. “I mean, I expected a little yelling.”

Marian sidled over to him, tried to hide her instinctive reaction to run away from the templar sigil. She slung an arm across his shoulders instead, and was pleased that she hardly even had to stand on her tiptoes to do it. “Well, Garrett can go talk to Varric a little while, our trusty dwarf will maybe convince him to take the stick out of his ass, and I’ll just be happy for you from both of us for a while.”

“Will you, though?” Carver leaned into her, just a little. “I mean, I know you’ve said you’re okay with templars, but… I mean… I don’t…”

Marian snickered. “Ah yes, Ser Carver the resolute. No one will talk you out of this. No one will change your mind.”

“Shut up,” he snapped, but there was no anger behind it. It could have been any day, any joke, any awkward silence after Marian pushed someone’s buttons too much.

Eventually, the chilly uncomfortable side effect of leaning on armor made Marian step away. “I’m.” She stopped. “It’s gonna be a little weird, at first. But you’re right. You should get the chance to do something meaningful, and I think that if anyone could do so in the Templars, it’d be you.”

They both stood in silence for a moment. She supposed Carver was silent because she had probably used up her taking things seriously quota for like, the whole year. Marian herself still found it difficult to stand in the same room as someone wearing the Templar armor, to try to reconcile her nightmares of the armor bearing the shining blade with the boy she’d known since infancy. Finally he shifted. “I’ve, uh. They’re expecting me in the Gallows.”

“Duty calls,” Marian sighed, putting extra emphasis on the breathiness for dramatic effect. She draped a hand over her eyes. “The valiant knight rides again, leaving his family behind for greater glory. Saving the world from the big bad maleficarum and wicked apostates.”

Carver made a strangled noise. Marian peeked at him from between her fingers. “Can you not-” he sighed. Shook his head. Started again. “Whatever you or Brother think about me, I won’t turn you in. I understand the value of family.”

“I know,” she said. And she did. He smiled at her, at least, before he left.

  
She didn’t think a door closing behind someone could sound so… final.


End file.
